


Facades

by peonylanterns



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dubcon/Noncon, F/M, Female Reader, Fingering, Mild Gore, Mob AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-06-10 16:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15295944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peonylanterns/pseuds/peonylanterns
Summary: “I talk in a daze, I walk in a maze,I cannot get out, said the starling”- Vladimir Nabokov,LolitaCritique heavily encouraged.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a standalone smut scene set in the backdrop of my incomplete mob au fic, _Tethering_. No prior reading is needed to follow along.

Part One

 

“I talk in a daze, I walk in a maze,

I cannot get out, said the starling”

\- Vladimir Nabokov,  _ Lolita _

 

He keeps his hand collared around your neck, wrapping his thick fingers over your throat as he crushes you against him. Teeth and bone, possessively caging you in - at first you clutched at his arm in an attempt to wrench him away, but now that wounded animal panic has transfigured itself into something darker, something desperate and thoroughly imbued with despair. 

You find that you cannot let go.  _ Don’t,  _ murmurs the hot rush of your blood,  _ you musn’t, you can’t. This is all you have left _ , it says, and suddenly you’re clinging to him, holding on for dear life and crying even harder than before. 

“Please -” you sob. Plaintively, pathetically, like a dog without its master, “Sans,  _ please…”  _

His grip loosens. He rolls you onto your back and gathers you into his arms. You can feel the press of his mouth against your neck, the reassuring pressure of his ribs pressed against your own, and the cage becomes a refuge, comforting in its security.

“hey, hey shhh,” he murmurs. “it’s ok.”

His hand makes its way slowly from the small of your back to your hipbone.

“didn't i say i’d take care of you?”

His touch leaves a cold trail over your bare skin, skimming your stomach, tracing the curved imprints of your chest. Then he’s thumbing your areola, speaking softly, tenderly, into your ear.

“i’m gonna give you what you need,” he breathes.

———

_ “Come to bed with me now,” says the wolf to Red Riding Hood, his grin monstrous, his teeth shining like knives. _

_ “Where shall I put my cloak?” asks the girl. _

_ “Throw it on the fire,” he replies. “You shan’t need it anymore.” _

———

Quick and shallow breaths, a sudden widening of your eyes, a spike in heart rate - His hand lingers on your inner thigh, and your anticipation is so palpable that he can nearly taste it. When he dips inside, you exhale shakily and try to turn your face away.

“what do you think you’re doing?” Sans roughly wraps his hand around your jaw and forces you to look back at him, then presses his fingers in deep with a deliberate slowness. You cry out, you give a shuddery moan that trails off into his mouth when he suddenly kisses you. 

Slowly, despite your mounting apprehension, the tension in your body begins to melt. He keeps you on the precipice of pleasure, keeping a slow and steady pace as he strokes you. “relax,” he murmurs. “yeah, that’s it… good, good…”

It feels like honey melting in water, syrupy and thick and permeating your senses with dizzying sweetness. He draws you out to a thin and brittle line, your emotions wavering between apprehension and a humiliating tenderness that disgusts you with its ardent sincerity. 

———

_ “Where shall I put my dress?” she asks. _

_ “Throw it on the fire,” he replies, hungrily watching her unlace her shift. “You shan’t need it anymore.” _

———

You’re his stray dog, bound to him irrevocably and following his every move. So lovely, with that trace of uncertainty in your eyes but your body soft and compliant in his hands. Everything about you blurs in a warm haze of desire as he runs his hands against your skin. It feels so strangely carnal to touch something organic and alive - there’s a vibrancy beneath your flesh that’s absent in monsters, a sort of solidity and gravity that accompanies your mortality. You bruise and tear so easily, and yet - and yet - 

He brushes his thumb against your face, and you lean your cheek against his palm, exposing the faint blue tracery of veins in your neck. You’re just an animal, after all, laying bare your throat in a display of submission. He wants to sink his teeth in that skin, leave a crescent of violet and rose like a blazon - but there will be time for that later. 

Gentle, he tells himself, slow and soft. But when he feels the slickness between your thighs and hears your breath catch, he has to restrain himself to keep from forcing you open and fucking you hard. When he feels you come, all fluttering muscle and nectar in his hands, he murmurs his approval in your ear. He unbuckles his belt and frees his erection, wraps his wet fingers around the shaft to lubricate it.

“Wait Sans, I - ” there’s still that undertone of anxiety in your voice. Your hands clutch at the sheets. 

“i’ll go slow,” he assures you. Sans slides the head of his cock between your labia, just enough to make you whimper in anticipation. But the sight of you, the smell of you, the  _ taste _ of you - the overpowering urge to fuck you senseless is bubbling up in the very core of him. 

———

_ Naked, her skin lit by the soft glow of the fire, the girl slips between the sheets. “Grandmother,” she says, already knowing the answer, “What big ears you have!” _

_ “All the better to hear you with, my dear.” _

———

Closer, closer, like a bird to a snake. Small, cautious steps. Lulled, hypnotized, it lies still as the coils draw tighter around its delicate wings. At its start, it feels like an embrace.

You’re well aware of what he’s doing. He doesn’t care for you. He never will. This is only a game of control, one you consciously decided to lose the moment you came apart in his arms. 

Nervous flutter, clenched fist - there’s a hesitation that grips you when you feel his erection slide against your inner thigh. Though you’re far from a virgin, the same sense of permanence twists in your chest. Only now, instead of some contrived notion of purity, it’s your self-determination that’s being shattered to pieces. 

———

_ “Grandmother, what big eyes you have!” _

_ The wolf draws closer. He knows this game well. “All the better to see you with, my dear.” _

———

He hadn’t quite grasped just how much weaker, how much  _ smaller _ you were in comparison until he forced you beneath him. That thin neck, the ridges of your spine against his ribcage - he’s felt human bone crack and splinter in his hands before. It never takes very much. And for you, even less. Just a bit of pressure. Just a bit of force. 

What peculiar creatures. Built of nerves and skin and blood as they are, the potential for pleasure - and cruelty, is so much more.

It’s entirely possible for him to make this whole encounter painless. But Sans wants you to  _ remember _ this. He wants to carve his dominance so definitively into your body that he breaks something in the process. Because after all, though he said he’d take care of you, he never said that he wouldn’t hurt you.

———

_ She says the final phrase, fully aware of what will follow. The outcome was fixed the moment she stepped off the path and into the woods.  _

_ The wolf waits quietly, inches away from flesh, his jaws dripping in anticipation.  _

_ “Grandmother, what big teeth you have!” _

_ As she faces the yawning mouth, she hears him finish what they started. The inevitable close, the wordless surrender. _

_ “All the better to eat you with, my dear.” _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: light gore, suicidal ideation

Part Two

Cracked ice, a snapped lock - like cutting open an animal to glimpse its palpitating heart - ripping through gristle and gore to what’s soft and beating -

  
———

  
“are you afraid?” Sans asks gently. 

  
He’s only barely inside of you, but already he can feel the slight jump in your muscles as you tense your body in anticipation.

  
Your words seem to stick in your throat. You give a short, quick nod instead.

  
“oh kid,” he breathes. “you shoulda been this scared of me from the very start.”

  
He jerks his hips against you, and you whimper as he hilts. It’s a slow, painful friction that burns a taut red line through to your core - it’s too much, it’s more than you’ve ever taken before, and it hurts, it hurts - you make a helpless, strangled noise of pain in the back of your throat and he barks out a laugh.

“what’s the matter, never taken monster cock before? never had something this big inside you?”

“N-no… I…”

He cups your cheek in his hand and smiles, then says in a low voice, “well then, ya better get used to it, darlin’.”

———

_If you knew he was a monster, why did you follow? If you knew those teeth would take you by the throat, why did you approach the bed?_ _  
_

_The girl’s hands trembled when she undid the clasp to your cloak and she had shivered in spite of the warmth of the fire at her back, but nonetheless she continued. The hesitation, the reluctance and fear - none of those things matter in the end._

———

The blunted light spilt on your skin, the muted edges of shadow like velvet in the hollow of your throat and beneath the curve of your breasts. The give of your flesh, the wet glint of scarlet and rose and the feverish warmth that engulfs him. An unexpected tenderness overtakes him, and he stills for a moment. Sunk deep inside, he can feel the violent beat of your clockwork heart.  
“my poor thing,” he murmurs, “you’re taking me so well.”

Your pulse quickens, your mouth parts slightly as you let out a shivery breath. “Sans,” you whimper, and there’s such an artless sincerity in your voice that it makes his chest ache with an emotion he can’t fully identify. Some mix between guilt and satisfaction, arousal and pity.

You bite your lip and wince when he reaches the end of you, you draw in a harsh inhale as he forces himself inside - he can tell by the way your body struggles to accommodate him that it hurts, yet you’ve done nothing to stop him. He’d been expecting at least a show of resistance, but instead you’d fallen apart at the mere press of his fingers.  
When you meet his eyes, the look on your face is softer than he’s ever seen it - an animal entranced, unaware of the knife at its throat.

———

_The moment she stepped into the cottage, Red Riding Hood had immediately seen through the wolf’s half-hearted disguise. There was time still to flee - her foot on the threshold, the trap not yet sprung - and yet she made the conscious decision to step inside and shut the door behind her._

_What ran through her mind as she bared herself to those teeth, those terrible claws? Did she see reflected in him the simple brutalism of the beast? Or was it relief that led her to him - born of her own inadequacies, the unbearable weight of living?_

———

This is but a cold simulacrum of affection.

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s something calculated in the rhythm of his thrusts, the stroke of his fingers against your skin. Though his body’s pressed against yours, he feels further away now than ever before.

But the blunt ache of him inside you is unarguable fact. His mouth against your neck, his hands on your hips - you can focus on pure sensation and pretend that it’s you that he wants.  
_What if?_ your vainly hopeful subconscious whispers. Unbidden, a sudden yearning washes through your soul, and you wish so badly that he were yours. You want to touch him, you want to know it feels like to run your hands over the curve of his ribcage, the divots of his shoulder blades - and so you reach for him, you gently slide your fingers along the crested vertebrae of his spine through his shirt, and he stills inside you and looks at you and -

“when did i say you could touch me?” Sans asks quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really can’t believe I have to say this, but please DO NOT insult each other in the comment section.
> 
> Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: noncon, gore

Part 3

 

For a single, fleeting instant, he considers giving in. The sensation of your fingertips skimming over his spine had caught him off guard - it was a momentary taste of domesticity, of a measure of real intimacy.

The soft slide of skin over bone, the painful brightness in your eyes, tender and enticingly sweet - for the span of a heartbeat, he might have been any other lover. 

———

_ And what about the wolf? _

_ Did you think this was borne of pure hunger, with all the simplicity of animal instinct? He is base and brutal and bestial and yet - there is far easier prey in these woods. _

_ ——— _

You catch the briefest flicker of doubt cross his face, so subtle and quick that later, in the bitter dark of your own thoughts, you’ll have convinced yourself it was all in your head.

The sudden wave of gravity that slams your wrists back against the mattress brings the old fear and trepidation rushing back into your heart, filling it like cold water. His voice is soft, his expression is mild, but there’s a hunger in his eyes that frightens you with its intensity. 

“Wait,” you plead. “Sans, please - I won’t do it again, I - ”

“quiet.”

He wraps his hands around your trapped wrists, briefly running his thumb over the tensed cords of your tendons before he tightens his grip hard enough that you cringe.

“and you were doing so well,” he says. “i really thought we were getting somewhere.”

———

_ What is man but sentient flesh, dreaming flesh, flesh that has tasted the divinity of consciousness? For flesh is mortal, and all that separates man from the mundanity of simple decay is the presence of his immortal soul. _

_ ——— _

The snake’s coils tighten, and the first sickening snaps ring through the air as the bird’s wings begin to break. The pinions torn, the thin bones cracked and displaced - is it a mercy then, to continue? 

It’s a slow suffocation, a sinuous strangulation, but the enveloping warmth, the comfort of contact… don’t struggle, my darling - where could you go with such crippled wings?

———

He forces himself further inside, deep enough that the slow, cresting ache of him is near unbearable. The heated flush that always colors your face when you’re about cry begins to rise. “Sans, stop - ”, you gasp, “You’re hurting me - ”

“ - you giving me an order?” His words cut cold and clear through your whimpers. “should know better than that by now.” 

_ ——— _

_ Nestled in a shell of muscle and bone, beating against the cage of his teeth, your human heart is nothing more than a chunk of palpitating meat - as Persephone ate of her fateful pomegranate and Eve bit through the crimson skin of her apple, so too does he consume the fruit of your body. _

———

Is this the only way you can have him? On your knees, with the perpetual weight of his ownership around your neck? 

_ (but at least he’s touching you - and you have the memory of his kiss, the imprint of tenderness embedded in your skin - ) _

And if it is, what then? You’re already thoroughly entwined, the desperation and desire looped through your very being.

———

Sans leans into you, and under the the fabric of his shirt, you can feel the rigidity of his ribs, each curved bone pressing hard against your bare skin. Pressed up to the hilt, the sharp pain of him inside you flares and ebbs with his thrusts. He keeps his motions deliberately slow, he presses his mouth against your neck with a wholly unexpected gentleness, and a vanishingly thin edge of pleasure slivers through. 

“but maybe this is on me,” he murmurs.  His grip on your wrists loosens, and the possibility of mercy flits through your head. Without thinking, like willing prey offering itself up to the knife, you turn your head to the side to further expose your throat.

“maybe i never made it clear enough where things stand.”

———

The objective control he’s tried so hard to maintain through all of this is eroding fast. Like a rising tide, the solid ground being drowned little by little with every passing moment, an irrepressible sense of need spreads through his soul. It spans deeper than lust, touching some primal chord that he’s all but buried in his attempts to stay emotionally aloof. It grips him hard, dragging him in until he’s on the very precipice of snapping.

Force it down, swallow it - keep steady. The draw of physical pleasure he can stand, but the maddening rush of your blood, the hard rhythm of your pulse - 

(and yet that momentary lapse, that glimpse of vulnerability -)

———

_ Your red hood had been like a lick of flame through the dark. But now, smoldering to ashes in the fireplace, it’s been reduced to nothing more than a bright scrap of cloth.  _

_ It’s the touch of humanity that transfigures matter into meaning. In clothing you, in acquiring a purpose, the red hood became a beacon. And in that perpetual forest gloom, surrounded by the scent of decay and the creeping undergrowth, the wolf was the snared moth caught in its inevitable trajectory.  _

———

But is it not in the irrevocable that we find our greatest satisfaction? One step more, one breath more, and something will break.

He’s felt it before, with his finger on the trigger of a gun, with the cold heaviness of a crowbar in his hands - but the warm taste of your mouth is still on his tongue, and you don’t deserve this, no - 

———

Without warning, before you’ve fully taken in the full weight of what he’s said, Sans sinks his teeth into the exposed skin of your shoulder and bites down hard enough to draw blood. It feels like a burning brand, the heat of it radiating, searing deep - your body reflexively recoils, you instinctively try to jerk away from him, all your conscious submission eclipsed by a sudden rush of self preservation. 

He’ll use you until there’s nothing left, and he’ll never love you, never want you with the same desperation with which you cling to him, never, never, never - 

_ (but you’ve known this from the start, haven’t you?  _

_ and yet it doesn’t make this any easier to bear.) _

The tears come hot and fast, and you want to scream, you want to break free of all this and leave him behind, and then you’d be yours again and you’d be - 

You’d be alone.

———

“i shoulda used you like this from the start,” Sans breathes. “was it hard to take before, baby? because that was me playing nice _.” _

He lets go of your wrists, but the crushing pressure of his gravity remains. Then he brushes his thumb across your tear-stained cheek, his mouth perilously close to your own, and says:

“now then, lemme show you your place.”

———

_ The blood in his mouth is dripping from his jaws, but what stains his teeth and fills his stomach is the intoxicating taste of possession.  _

_ This body once held a girl. This flesh once housed a soul. All of it empty now, all of it thoroughly devoured and destroyed. He has touched divinity and rent it apart. _

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to neroli9 for beta reading this. Without her support, this snippet would have stayed in my drafts forever. She's also got an excellent Mob AU fic, [A Puzzle Just For Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6776461/chapters/15487282), which is undoubtedly one of the best pieces of fanfiction I've ever read. It's got a captivating plot, interesting characters, and _excellent_ smut. She also has a tumblr - [neroli9.tumblr.com](https://neroli9.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Special thanks as well to kenyaketchup and beaubashley for their feedback and support for this fic. They’ve both supported my writing tremendously and I’m very grateful to them. :^)
> 
> If you liked this, please consider leaving a comment. If you hated it, that's fine too - tell me what I need to improve on so I can produce higher quality stuff. Thanks.
> 
> You can contact me at my tumblr - [peonylanterns.tumblr.com](https://peonylanterns.tumblr.com)


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